The Deadbeat Odyssey; Down and Out in Beverly Hills

By Alex Witchel

Published: August 20, 2000

Whenever something bad happened, my great-grandmother's philosophy was that things could be worse. ''If you walked into a room and saw everyone else's troubles up on the wall,'' she would say, ''you would still go straight to your own.''

She obviously never knew about the Beverly Loan Company, where other people's troubles not only hang on the wall, signed by artists like Chagall, Hockney and Miro, but also come in the guise of Rolex watches, gold cigarette cases and diamond necklaces.

Beverly Loan, says its co-owner Jean Zimmelman, is the oldest pawnshop in Beverly Hills, founded by her father, Louis, in 1938. And in a town where fortunes are made and lost in a film's opening weekend, the trophies of yesterday can easily become the mortgage of tomorrow.

''Every woman should have diamonds, and every man should have a good watch,'' Zimmelman said with authority. ''An Armani suit does nothing for you. With jewelry the value remains, unlike an old jacket. Big shots out here make a movie and whistle right through the money. They buy jewelry because that image is always important. Then, when they're waiting for their next picture, they come here. We have a huge repeat business.''

Beverly Loan also has a healthy sales business, offering shoppers in the know some incredible buys on some incredible jewelry. (It is Beverly Hills, after all.) Zimmelman showed me a pair of gold Cartier earrings encrusted with diamonds and rubies with a matching ring. ''These pieces sell for $20,000,'' she said, offering me a loupe to verify their authenticity. ''Here, they cost $6,000.''

Needless to say, this is no street-corner operation with bars on the windows and three balls hanging over the door. The company is located in the Bank of America building, where many of the items are stored in the vault during the period in which they are ''in loan.'' Its offices are on the third floor, where there are two locked entrances, video monitors and an armed guard, not to mention a black Labrador retriever named Elvis. He seems pretty mellow, though. Zimmelman; her sister and partner, Helaine; and Helaine's daughter Stephanie Blatt sometimes decorate him. (Once, when a group of rappers came in, Elvis wore gold chains in their honor.) The jewelry cases are filled with diamonds, watches and ropes of pearls, and there is even a case for items priced at $100 or less -- stocked mostly with gold wedding bands.

''They say prostitution is the oldest profession, but pawnbroker is older,'' Zimmelman said good-naturedly. Like most people in this town, she won't give her age, but she has grown children. She was wearing a dark, conservative suit with a Van Cleef & Arpels pin (in the design of a standard poodle) and on her finger, a five-carat Asscher-cut diamond ring she bought as a present for herself. Like all Beverly Loan employees, she is a certified gemologist.

''There are lots of reasons why people want to come here,'' she said, sitting behind her desk where she has a clear view of who enters and exits the premises. ''A lot of customers have a line of credit with the bank and don't want to use it if they need quick cash. Then there are people without medical insurance, for instance, or women going through a divorce. The other day a man came in and pawned a Rolex and a diamond ring because he had a great stock tip. When the economy is better, as it is now, business is great. There's more borrowing, and it's positive instead of negative, like a wedding that's gone over budget. That's pretty positive, to give a bigger party. One woman borrowed money for a face lift, and she came back looking fabulous. I was so happy for her. Then there are times that people have a car accident and don't want to go through their insurance company.''

''Everyone gets into a cash-crunch situation,'' she added. ''And with the film studios, people can wait 90 days to be paid.''

Zimmelman said that one of the attractions of her business for those in need of cash is to avoid the compounded interest that is charged when borrowing on a credit card. ''One of the positive things with this is that no credit report is made,'' she said. ''We don't care at all what your past history is. The only report we make on a loan is a police report, just in case the merchandise was stolen, though less than 1 percent of all stolen goods go to pawnbrokers. We take a thumbprint, and if a customer feels uncomfortable about that, then we don't make the loan.''

Blatt came in with a customer, a woman dressed in a red suit with matching shoes. The woman had put herself through law school in part by using Beverly Loan, and now that she is a lawyer comes back regularly to shop. On her agenda that day was a diamond necklace. Do the women see their share of movie stars in here? Zimmelman shook her head. ''In days gone by, the 40's, 50's and 60's, you did, but not today,'' she said. ''They all have business managers now. What you see today that's interesting is the children of the really big names. The money was given to them when they were younger by their parents, and now it's not coming so easily. Some will say: 'I don't want this diamond. It's bad karma.''' She smiled. ''All estate jewelry is used. Then they want to buy something and ask, 'Who had this bracelet in the 30's?' I tell them I don't know and it doesn't matter. The jewelry takes on a new personality when someone else starts wearing it.''

All loans are made for a four-month period, and those higher than $2,500 charge 4 percent interest. The company allows a two-week grace period before sending out a notice. ''We don't run to sell,'' Zimmelman said. ''We never want to foreclose, or we've lost you as a customer. We work with people if they call us and say they need a little more time.'' Her profits, she said, come from the interest and on the sale of items that are not claimed.

Zimmelman joined her father in business in 1988, after her uncle Julius, his partner, died. Her sister joined her in 1991. ''My father, as wonderful a man as he was, was a male chauvinist,'' Zimmelman said. ''He didn't picture us working in this business or any business. We were to be married with children. But we had always been exposed to jewelry. My father's father was a jeweler, too, so we had some knowledge. And I'd watch every move my father made -- how he would look at a diamond, and how well he treated people.'' He worked until he was 88, and died five years ago, and Zimmelman said that she tries following his example of treating clients with respect in spite of their circumstances. She talked about one man in his early 30's with a wife and baby, laid off from his job as an insurance underwriter, who pawned his Rolex watch. ''He was a bright young guy,'' Zimmelman said softly. ''He just needs a little luck.''

Human nature being what it is, Zimmelman's own job future seems secure -- especially in this town, where appearances have always counted for too much. Though don't look for Beverly Loan to go modern and expand to the Internet anytime soon.

''I have to see the jewelry,'' Zimmelman said. ''And I have to have the thumbprint.''